I Learned from You
by Shizuku Tsukishima749
Summary: -Collection of Batman and Robin father/son drabbles.- "Never leave home without your utility belt": the first thing Batman taught his young apprentice. But in all truthfulness, Bruce has taught Dick so much more than that.
1. Justice

A/N: This is something I've been wanting to write for a little while now. It's going to be a drabblefic, which means each chapter (unless otherwise stated) will be a oneshot of varying length, centering around the lessons Batman has taught Robin over the years.

This fic was inspired by a scene in Episode 3, "Welcome to Happy Harbor," in which Robin whips out his utility belt out of nowhere and, when Kid Flash mentions it, says that 'never leaving home without it was the first rule Batman taught him.' I thought Dick's devotion to his mentor here was absolutely adorable, and then this sprang to my mind!

This chapter's Lesson is numbered Zero because, technically, Dick (in accordance with "The Batman" branch of the Batverse) wasn't yet Robin when he learned this lesson of justice rather than revenge. That said, this won't necessarily go in chronological order, just to make it easier on my taxed brain. XD (The joys that A.P. Physics brings to this noggin, I tell you... XP)

_Disclaimer:_I do not own Young Justice. Cartoon Network, DC, and whoever else does. Its brilliance just inspired this.

* * *

_-"I thought you wanted Zucco to get what was coming to him?"_

_"Well, he did, didn't he? Justice, I mean?"-_

~Paraphrased from "The Batman," Season 4, Episode 1, "A Matter of Family"

* * *

**I Learned from You**

_Lesson 0: Live your life in the name of justice, not revenge._

As Dick—no, _Robin_—watches Tony Zucco gaily throw his knives at a restrained Bruce—_Batman_—he can't help the animalistic rage that blazes through him.

This man is the one who murdered his parents, _his parents _who did nothing but refuse to get involved with a protectorate mob! They were the greatest people Dick had ever known, and this…this _fiend _took them away from him!

For Heaven's sake, he's only _nine_! He doesn't deserve to grow up without his parents' love and support! He doesn't deserve to know this burning fire that is ever-slowly consuming his golden heart!

Just like_ they _never deserved to die!

And it is here that he leaps to the ground, a borrowed batarang redirecting the knife sailing toward a struggling Bruce's heart.

Recognizing him even with the domino mask, Zucco grins smugly as always.

"The Grayson brat?" he questions incredulously, almost mockingly, more than a little amused as his glinting eyes flit toward the Caped Crusader. "The Dark Knight's turned to orphaned circus freaks for protection, I see?"

Robin stiffens, only just hearing the warning that passes through his adoptive Father's lips.

He engages the dangerous man in combat before comprehension has a chance to dawn.

Fists fly, feet connect, and incredible acrobatic feats are met blow for blow.

All along, however, Zucco has been testing him, and soon enough the battle turns very one-sided.

The child is beaten to near-unconsciousness in mere moments.

He can barely make out the taunting threat Zucco utters and the deadly growls emitting from a fiercely protective Batman.

Through blurry eyes he can see the club as it comes down, and it is all he can do not to choke on his own relieved breath when the Masked Manhunter tackles Zucco away from his charge.

He observes the ensuing skirmish between the two, and when his head finally stops spinning some inborn instinct drops him into step beside the Dark Knight.

In this struggle of robbed innocence, the Dynamic Duo takes flight for the first time.

The finishing strike is left to Robin.

Zucco, following the petite nine-year-old with fearful-astonished eyes, cannot believe he's lost to this _child_ and the _Bat_.

But he has not the facilities to question it any further.

For it is in this moment that a swift crack to the face lands him slumped against the tent's center pole, out cold.

The police are on their way.

* * *

Outside, Bruce can only take in his Wonder of a ward.

The chance to take out his family's killer was within his grasp, and yet…and yet he was strong enough to let his heart win out in the end.

The secret-Batman admires him, truly. When he was Dick's age, he hadn't the heart for mercy. He knows exactly what he would have done had he come face to face with _his _parents' killer...

Cleansing his mind with a slow inhale and exhale through his nose, he rests a hand on the boy's back.

"I'm proud of you, Dick," he says quietly, eyes shining. "So proud."

Embarrassed, Dick lowers his head as a happy blush heats his cheeks.

"Thanks," he replies, smiling a bit prior to lifting his head, "but it was all thanks to you, you know." At the raised eyebrow he receives, Dick clarifies, "I mean, when I…when I first saw him…"

He trails here, looking away as his face takes on a dark shadow and his eyes surge with a flash of pain.

Bruce knows this look all too well.

Kneeling down, he curls two gentle fingers around the gypsy's chin and tilts his face upward until they are eye-to-eye.

"You wanted revenge," he deduces softly, and the child nods.

"Y-yes…" he whispers, shutting his eyes tightly against the tears that rise at the back of his eyes.

One liquid diamond escapes from each eye, he wiping one away and his adoptive Father tending tenderly to the other. Dick leans in to his touch, and the man cups the child's cheek affectionately.

They've known each other less than one week, but already foster Father and son have grown to love one another more than anything else.

"But what does your inner strength have to do with me?" the older inquires curiously.

A minute beam paints the pixie's lips, one so gentle suddenly that it makes a lump rise in Bruce's throat.

Slowly wrapping his arms around his Father figure's neck, the boy holds Bruce close and simply breathes him in a moment prior to whispering in his ear,

"Justice over all."

* * *

_A/N: _I am taking requests for any further lessons you guys think Batman'd teach Robin! I already have a few ideas, but anything you guys have in mind would be awesome to hear (giving you credit, of course, should I decide to use it - and nine times out of ten, I will)!

Thanks so much for reading, as always!


	2. Utility Belt

_A/N: _Thanks so much to all of those who reviewed, faved, and alerted last (mistaken, initially) chapter! For those who've already read this, but want to review the first chapter now, go right ahead (maybe tell me which chapter you're reviewing, though: one or two)! XD So glad you're enjoying this so far!

* * *

_Lesson 2: Never leave home without your utility belt._

"And Dick, one more thing: if you leave this house at any time, whether to go on patrol as Robin or to school as yourself, you must promise to always have your utility belt with you."

The protégé of the Dark Knight skids to a halt mid-pre-leap, turning a curious visage to his mentor.

"But why?" he asks, one eyebrow cocked in confusion. "The villains mainly come out at night in Gotham, don't they? So if I'm in my civilian clothes during the day, I shouldn't need it, right? Besides, if someone sees it somehow, they'll know I'm Robin!"

Bruce nods, grinning slightly at the nine-year-old's presence of mind. John and Mary would be proud.

"They do tend to strike at night, true, but the occasional crime occurs in daytime-Gotham. And if I can't manage to sneak away to don the cowl, I'd like to think I'm doing all I can to help in the meantime. Even if it's just a smoke bomb here and there, a well-aimed batarang or two, it's still more than Bruce Wayne can do unarmed."

The logic sticks in seconds, his pupil nodding vigorously with a beam lighting his face.

Bruce's own proud smile widens in kind. Such natural intelligence and physical talent in one so young…

Reaching down, Dick removes his utility belt from his lithe waist with careful fingers.

Folding the golden pouch-band into a single rectangular compartment, he scrutinizes his work for a few moments before two pairs of blue eyes meet.

"Is that what this is for, then? Maximum security?"

It takes a second for the younger's question to register through his shock, but when it does Bruce chuckles openly.

Tousling his adoptive son's black hair with an affectionate hand, he affirms,

"Yes, Dick. Yes, it is."

The nine-year-old glows in response to the praise, at the knowledge that he's impressed his adoptive Father after only five days by his side.

A thought crosses his mind, and he turns back.

"Oh, and Bruce?" He crosses his heart. "I promise."

* * *

_A/N: _Thanks so much for reading, as always!


	3. Perception

_A/N:_ Thanks so much to those who faved, alerted, and reviewed the first two chapters! So glad you're enjoying so far, and I only hope I can continue to please!

That being said, I've never written Scarecrow before, so if I got his personality wrong (and I don't think he has fear gas darts - that's more the Joker's thing - but I hope it's all right that I added them in!), please forgive me!

* * *

_Lesson 2: Better safe and alive than sorry and dead._

This is his first patrol with Batman, and Robin is beyond excited.

But he doesn't overly show it and keeps himself calm and collected, ready and waiting for anything and everything. Just like his adoptive Father had taught him.

And it is due to this man's teachings that he realizes something is off sooner than he would have only a month and a half ago.

According to Batman the docks have always been one of the more mysterious places in Gotham, and Robin cannot deny that he might well have been speaking the truth as an almost inaudible hissing-hum starts up in his ears.

Looking up, he sees that the Dark Knight is not behaving any differently, almost like he doesn't even hear it.

Maybe it's just him…

"Batman," the man stops, not turning toward him, but merely inclining his head just slightly to indicate that he's listening, "do you he—?"

He's cut off as the two unused warehouses on either side of them explode, the dock caving in below them.

"_Move_!" Batman orders, leading the way as they dodge flaming debris and narrowly escape the collapsing structure.

The young man sighs heavily in relief once they reach safety, and the Caped Crusader turns to his pixie of a charge.

"You all right?"

Robin, leaning on his knees to catch his breath, grins brightly and gives his mentor a thumbs up.

"You kidding? That was _awesome_!"

The corners of the Masked Manhunter's lips curl upward. Even here, the boy is cheerful as always. Incredible…

"You won't be smiling for long, little boy!" The two turn to come face to face with none other than Jonathan Crane, otherwise known as Scarecrow. Batman's eyes narrow instantly, and he moves to step discreetly between the insane man and his child. Robin pales; supposedly, this is the madman who's made it his life's mission to scare those he hates to _death_… Inwardly, he shivers. He's usually not one to judge on looks, but he doesn't know how anyone _couldn't _be afraid of this guy's mug. "Didn't your parents ever tell you that the night is a time for…" Scarecrow smiles darkly as his eyes lock on Robin and fall to slits, "…_fear_?"

The boy's heart pangs at the indirect mention of his parents, but he doesn't let himself react past clenched fists. Batman's taught him better than that.

At his side, his mentor twitches his right-hand pointer finger, something that would go unnoticed by anyone else. But Robin is familiar with this—just in case, Batman developed hand signals for them to use in the field until they can work together flawlessly—and the two don their gas masks simultaneously.

"What do you want here, Crane? Why the docks instead of within inner-city limits?" Batman interrogates, batarang at the ready while Robin likewise arms himself with a birdarang.

Scarecrow grins eerily, arms outstretched and head thrown back to drink in the moonlight.

"Isn't the night _fun_, Batman? Of course, the darkness doesn't frighten _you_…" He straightens and turns his glinting gaze the Dark Knight's way, a curious and almost angry light falling across his face. "In fact, Batsy, I haven't found _anything _you fear…"

Batman's countenance hardens.

A moment of tense silence.

Then, a fist striking palm.

"Are we going to get an answer out of you," Robin says, smirking impishly, "or can Batman and I kick your butt before sending you back to Arkham?"

Scarecrow's eyes travel to the young boy, and some innate sense causes Batman to whip around before even his brilliant mind can catch up.

"_Down_!"

Tackling Robin to the ground, the Dark Knight uncovers the stunned boy to see a dart of Crane's liquefied fear toxin sticking into the wood where the child had just been.

Growling savagely under his breath, Batman moves to stand.

But that is when Robin truly takes in all he's seen.

The madman is favoring his left side, and blood is dripping onto the dock from somewhere they can't see. The dock beneath his feet is rotting swiftly, and there is a 'Welcome' sign swinging above his head.

The nine-year-old touches the World's Greatest Detective's arm, and the man turns to him halfway, keeping one eye on Scarecrow.

Robin grins mischievously, the information passes without need for words, and an imperceptible nod seals the deal.

This'll be fun.

* * *

_A/N: _Please don't think Bruce didn't notice any of the stuff Robin did at the end! He did, but his protectiveness kind of overtook that for a minute. And at the beginning, Robin's smaller, younger ears became attuned to the sound of the torpedoes coming toward the two warehouses because...it's like when you just _know_ something's gonna happen and your senses are heightened. And Bruce had that, too, but he was too busy scanning the area for any sign of the mischief that called them there. XD If that even makes sense for 'multitask and make everything perfect or else' Bruce Wayne/Bats... XD If that even makes sense for 'multitask and make everything perfect or else' Bruce Wayne/Bats...

Thanks for reading, as always!


	4. Come to Me

_A/N: _As can plainly be seen by the time gap this chapter presents, these are not going in chronological order of Robin's learning them (as for the order of Bruce _teaching _them? Perhaps.). Just want to make that clear.

Thanks so much for all of the reviews, alerts, and faves to the first three chapters! Really glad you're enjoying it so far, and I hope you continue to do so!

* * *

_-"I'll be okay. A-at least…that's what everyone's been telling me… I miss them… It's just not _fair_…"-_

~"The Batman," Season 4, Episode 1, "A Matter of Family"

* * *

_Lesson 3: Never be afraid to come to me, day or night, good or bad._

Thanks to the convenient clap of thunder outside, Dick's scream is muted when he finally breaks free from his nightmare.

Wiping the sweat from his brow with his nightshirt sleeve, the ten-year-old clutches a fistful of the fabric before his erratically-beating heart as he struggles to regulate his heavy, shaky breathing. Slowly, almost sacredly, he wipes the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand.

That night terror had been worse than all the others. His eyes drift toward his clock, and somehow he is not surprised when it reads midnight on the dot.

Today… That means… Has it really been that long…?

He rakes one hand over his face and through his hair, kneading his closed eyes with his index finger and thumb.

It's been one year, then… One whole year since his parents were stolen from him…

And no matter how much his exhausted body wishes it, no matter how much he yearns to go back to sleep to forget even for just a little while that this tragic day exists, something deep within holds him back.

He can't explain it, but…there's something he needs to do first.

Exiting his room as quietly as possible, he wanders with purpose down the hall and stops when he comes to the room beside his.

Bruce's room.

Reaching out, he grips the big brass doorknob with a small, pale, trembling hand. Taking a moment, he closes his eyes in order to bring himself into focus, to calm his growing-labored breathing once more.

Appearing to Bruce a nervous wreck—truth or no—won't help anyone.

Though truly, it isn't Dick's intention to _wake_ his adoptive Father at all. The philanthropist, as Batman, had had a hard time against Two-Face tonight; and even then, the selfless man deserves as much sleep as he can get.

At last, the ten-year-old opens the door and tiptoes inside. Slinking over to Bruce's bed, he is sure to stay a few paces back as he watches his mentor sleep.

And it is here, in the silence of this large, dark, somewhat lonely room, that Dick finds what he's been needing:

The sound of Bruce's heartbeat.

Its steady rhythm tells him many things—

He isn't alone. Will _never _be alone if Bruce has anything to say about it;

Those he's loved in the past are still with him. Will be there _forever_ as long as he keeps them close to his heart;

Bruce, Barbara, and Alfred are here for him, too. Will be for _always_.

For a while, he sits cross-legged on the plush carpet at Bruce's bedside, taking in his beloved adoptive Father's steady breathing and the rhythmic _thump, thump, thump _of his heart.

He _lives _for this.

* * *

Hours later, Dick opens bleary eyes to smile lightly at his own expense. Meditating for so long on the one thing he loves the most in this world…no _wonder _he dozed off.

He gets to his feet, stretches, and heads for the door without a sound. Bruce will be up for work in a few hours; he doesn't want to be here when he does.

But fate seems to have another course in mind.

"Dick?"

The child stiffens instantly—he _knew _he'd heard a change in breathing pattern and the slightest shift in Bruce's position on the bed—before he admits defeat.

Even with all of that trouble, Bruce really _did_ have an inner ear cocked the whole time. But then, what else should he expect from the Batman?

As the boy swivels to face his mentor, the man sits up and beckons his young son closer. Concerned blue eyes sweep over the child, and a gentle hand hovers over Dick's still rather colorless, somewhat damp cheek.

Bruce's eyes darken given a moment. "A nightmare?" he asks softly, knowing the answer well before it comes.

Dick nods, averting his eyes and biting his lip as the memories and tears rush back.

"It...it's the anniversary, Bruce... I-I...I _miss _them..."

Within an instant, he is swept into his adoptive Father's strong arms.

"It's okay. It's all right," Bruce whispers, holding Dick tighter and rubbing his back soothingly, just the way Alfred used to do for Bruce when he was the ten-year-old's age. "Zucco's gone now—_you _made sure of that, Dick—and he's never going to hurt you again." The boy can hear both the threat and promise in those words, and he burrows deeper into the safety of Bruce's broad chest. "You've done your parents justice, Dick, and you're bettering the lives of so many innocent people as my partner, as Robin. They would be so proud of you." A loving smile comes to grace the man's features, and he tenderly kisses the top of his dear son's head through his hair. "You're a hero, Dick, one with friends and family all around who love you and would do anything for you. Never forget that."

Dick, reluctantly pulling out of Bruce's warm hold, grins a little.

"Thank you," he breathes. "And you know," his baby blues rise, and even the secret-Batman is surprised at the vitality in them, "your parents would be proud of you, too."

An adoring, gentle beam etches onto his adoptive Father's face now, one softer than any the child's seen in his many wonderful months here. One of the man's large hands comes to rest on his shoulder.

"Thank you, Dick. For everything."

The boy nods, placing his own hand over Bruce's. He understands the weight this gesture holds.

Together, they've found solace here.

* * *

_A/N: _Thanks so much for reading, as always!


	5. Wealth of Knowledge

_A/N: _This is where it is made obvious that these are not going in chronological order.

This is set right after the first-second episodes of YJ. It's part of the Batman-Robin aftermath that _so _obviously and awesomely (yet _so sadly_) occurs off-screen. I say_ part _because I'm going with my personal theory that, since Robin didn't find out about the Watchtower until now...I'd guess Bats didn't tell him about the Justice League either until one year before this (when he was twelve) or so...ish... Which makes this part a lot juicier than it should be since it focuses on Robin's pent-up feelings of _why _not knowing about the JLA was so hard on him instead of the Watchtower thing or Cadmus... Still, I thought this would be good for them (and for me, since I've never really written them fighting before...)! XD

That said, before I forget, this chapter isn't exactly something Robin was taught for combat so much as it is for Dick learning ever more about who Bruce is behind the mask.

_So _sorry this took so long to get out! The last _entire week _has been testing, and my classes have been rather weird in trying to recuperate from that and prepare for the end of the year. XP So...tired... *falls asleep in her computer chair*

* * *

_Lesson 4: I will tell you everything I feel you need to know. Nothing more, nothing less._

This night in the Batcave is one of the (admittedly, graciously few) unpleasant ones.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me about the Watchtower? I'm your _partner_! I should _know _these things!" Dick shouts, sounding accusing while fighting his feelings of betrayal and anger. "You told me when I was just starting out," after a particularly painful lesson on both their parts, truth be told, "that partners _don't_ _keep_ _secrets_!" His unmasked blue eyes narrow and his frown deepens as he marches toward his adoptive Father. A disgusted, disbelieving arm diagonally slices the air in front of him. "So _I'm _supposed to abide by that rule, but _you're_ not?"

Bruce narrows his eyes sternly, and even in his enraged state Dick can read the affronted crinkles about the man's forehead, the concern and confusion amassing near his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

This is about much more than just the Watchtower.

"There was no reason for you to know, Dick. What good—?"

"No '_reason_?'"

Dick can't even bring himself to care that his voice has just cracked for the first time—that his heart has leaped into his throat and his stomach has plummeted, that his vision is blurry with tears, likewise realizing that the crack probably isn't puberty kicking in after all.

He…he can't believe _Bruce _is saying this!

_Bruce_—the one person who knows him better than _anyone_, who has trained him and raised him and been his world's _Sun_ for the last four years of his life! He swallows thickly and blinks rapidly, striving to get another good look at the secret-Batman. Since _when _is the World's Greatest Detective this _thick _about his son?

"What about the fact that your butler has to lie for you? What about the fact that your son _worries _when you run late for patrol?" He blinks away a second wave of tears and must bite his tongue harshly to keep his chin from quivering. He's kept these emotions inside for a few years now, and it seems they're picking this opportunity to come out. "And what about when you don't come home _at all_, when you call from some undisclosed location to tell me you won't be home for so-many-days, and I have to hear the pain in your voice that you're trying so hard to hide?"

His voice cracks many more times during this, but as the tears begin to slide down his cheeks as the memories of such hard days come to his mind he can't bring himself to care.

"Batman, biologically or not, I'm your _son_! You feed me, clothe me, shelter me, you've taken me under your wing—you _make_ _me_ _who_ _I_ _am_!"

He trembles and lets his head drop a bit as his blue eyes and red face are awash with ever-feeling tears. Sometimes, in this exhilarating life he leads, he forgets that he's only thirteen, that it's only been a few short years since his parents died, that he's someone besides a superhero.

But if there's one thing he's _never _forgotten and will _never _forget it's the fact that he _loves_ this man before him in a way no one else but the Big Bat himself (aside from maybe Alfred) will ever fully understand. He supposes that's the reason for this long-belated breakdown now.

"And I am _grateful _for that, I _love _you for it—" Dick's voice breaks as his eyes bear into the matching blues of his blessed adoptive Father, "—but I _need _to know that you trust me as much as I do you! That's _all_." An uneven breath escapes him here, eyes pleading all the more as he shakes his head. "I don't think that's too much to ask."

Throughout all of this, Bruce has been listening attentively, observing him and feeling him out while stunned and slightly on the glossy-eyed side of things himself.

In a way, this makes Dick feel a little better. But only just. Bruce has always been good about _listening _to his protégé. Now comes the more difficult part of explaining himself in a way that reconciles them both.

So when the man finally crosses the small distance between them and raises gentle, warm hands to wipe the boy's tears away before setting both appendages on his shoulders, the secret-Boy Wonder can't help but let crumble what little is left of his walls.

Because this is the wonderful man who opened his arms and his life and his _heart _in Dick's hour of need.

Because this is the beautiful man who's given him wings and instilled in him the confidence and skills needed to survive this righteous War they wage in honor of those they've lost.

Because Bruce is his Father, and Dick is his son.

"I've contemplated all of those things more than you can imagine, Dick," Bruce admits slowly, softly, and there is the smallest squeeze to the boy's shoulder. "I _do _trust you, Dick: with everything that I am, everything that I've ever been and will ever hope to be. I never meant to hurt you by not telling you about the League." Because that is the _heart _of this matter, they know. "I thought if you knew and something happened, you'd want to help," Dick's eyes narrow protectively—of _course _he would!—at the same moment as Bruce's, "and I knew if you ended up hurt because of it…" A dark, dangerous shadow passes over Bruce's eyes just before he closes them tightly, and Dick has to fight to keep from shivering. "I couldn't risk it, Dick. Knowing I might not be there to protect you…" Bruce shakes his head vehemently, and Dick can swear there is the slightest shake to his voice and shining droplets on his eyelashes. "I will _never _risk you."

"I can take care of myself, old man," the thirteen-year-old whispers reassuringly, a small smile-smirk coming to his face. "In fact, the teacher might want to watch his back or the student will end up showing him who's _really _the King of this Batcave."

Ruffling the boy's black hair Bruce chuckles softly. They both know that the child's acrobatic skills have long-surpassed Bruce's; the man's merely been channeling and honing them for the past three years of their training together.

"I know your capabilities, Dick. I do. But that doesn't stop me from worrying all the same."

A caress of his child's cheek, one Dick can't help but lean into and proceed to mischievously steal a feather-light kiss on the back of the beloved man's fingers.

"Devotion is a two-way street, Bruce," Dick quirks, grinning cryptically enough to make his adoptive Father raise an amused eyebrow.

Using this to his advantage, he lunges forward to wrap his arms around Bruce tightly, burrowing into the man's chest. He can literally feel the smile on Bruce's face when he leans down to kiss the teen's head through his hair and complete the embrace one hundredfold.

"I'm sorry."

Dick beams.

"All I needed to hear." His hold tightens, and he whispers, "I forgive you…" and because it makes his heart swell just thinking about it, "…Dad."

* * *

_A/N: _I tried to get across the fact that Dick has already lost one Father and can't bear to lose another without _actually _saying it... Did I succeed? XP I _really _hope so! That was my entire point with Dick's rant, for the most part... XP

If you see any lapses in grammar, punctuation, spelling, or characterization, _please _tell me! I'm so tired, so I'm sure I missed _something_... XP Thanks so much!

Thanks so much for reading, as always! Rock on!


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